


Cry Your Name

by jessa_anna



Series: Light the Fuse and Watch it Burn [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, BAMF Pack, BAMF Stiles, Canon compliant through Season 2, Erica is alive, Future Fic, M/M, Magic Stiles!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-05 00:32:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/716817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessa_anna/pseuds/jessa_anna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years since Derek was taken. Two years Stiles and the pack has been setting the world on fire trying to find him. And now they are almost there.</p><p>*Now updated with actual dates as per Mykeyo10's request</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Talisman

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Cry Havoc](https://archiveofourown.org/works/650944) by [ladyblahblah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyblahblah/pseuds/ladyblahblah). 



> Inspired by the _Roswell _episode of the same name and Cry Havoc by ladyblahblah, especially the following quote: "'For himself? No; he never would've believed that he was worth it.' He looks back at Stiles then, searching his face; though what he's searching for, Stiles can't begin to say. 'But he'd have burned the world down for me. For any of us. I know that, and I won't do any less for him.'"__

****2015****

Stiles had a talisman. Not many people knew about it. He kept it hidden in a pocket on the inside of his shirt, next to his heart. That way he could feel it, every minute of every day, and never forget why he had started this whole thing. 

It was a photograph of his friends and him at prom. They had posed as a group in front of the newly rebuilt Hale House. Lydia and Jackson were in the background, arms wrapped around one another. Isaac had his arm around Danny’s shoulders. Scott was staring adoringly at Allison while she smiled brightly at the camera. Erica leaned her head against Boyd’s shoulder. In the center, Stiles stood with Derek’s arms around him, both of them smiling at the camera with a mixture of pride and love. Nobody had known that prom would be the last good memory they would have of each other. Nobody knew what was coming.

Stiles kept it close to remember, and he kept it close because he still had hope. He still hoped that when he had finally smashed the head of the last hunter standing between him and Derek, life would have a fraction of that joy again.

It had been two years since the hunters had taken him, two years that Stiles had been tracking him. Early on, he hadn’t realized how well connected these hunters were, how well they could hide behind passports and bribes and cloaking magic. He hadn’t realized that his search would take him around the world and back, that he would spend more money than he had ever seen and learn more magic so that his spark would become an inferno. He had destroyed everyone who had tried to come between him and Derek. And he had done it with a burning in his heart that never let him rest. A burning in his heart that the photograph stoked every time he looked at it. A burning that would only holding Derek would put out. 

But as Stiles stood in front of the small Scottish palace, staring at the brown stone walls and hearing the heartbeat of Derek, he felt for the first time that his dream, held fast in the talisman of the photograph, might actually be a possibility. 

But there was still so much to do.


	2. Blueprints

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or setting or anything. I just wish I did.
> 
> Unbeta'd, but I have a beta so this might be edited later. Still, if you see any glaring errors, let me know. I don't pick up on all my own mistakes, especially tense changes. For the last year, I keep changing tenses when I write. It's frustrating, and I'm not sure I got them all, so please let me know if it happens.

****2013****

“Is that it?” Stiles asked, nodding at the large pieces of paper spread out on Derek’s table, blue lines visible like veins where the light hit the few edges that weren’t lying flat. 

Everyone looked up at him from where they were crowded around it. Derek had just called a pack meeting, and, like usual, Stiles was late. He didn’t mean to be, but Harris had taken offense to something Stiles had said or did or something and given him detention. He had raced over to Derek’s loft afterwards. It just wasn’t fast enough to beat a bunch of werewolves, a werewolf hunter, and Lydia. 

Still, he was just as excited as the rest of them when Derek looked over and said, “Yes.”

The Hale House was being rebuilt.

It wasn’t being rebuilt exactly as it was before. Derek had debated about it, even going so far as making Stiles record a pros and cons list, before he decided that he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t make himself or his new pack live in a place that would have too many ghosts hiding around brand new corners. So he had commissioned an architect to design a new house, with a room for every pack member, even Jackson, though he no longer lived in Beacon Hills. If he ever came back, he would have a place in the Hale House and the Hale pack. 

Now the first plans were done, and the pack was going over them together, to find possible weakness and think of any improvements that might need to be made. 

“Where’s my room?” asked Stiles as he pushed his way between Erica and Lydia. 

“Beside Derek’s,” Erica said, clearly distracted by her own room, “Hey, Lydia, Allison, do you think we should have some sort of gigantic closet? You know, for our shoes.”

“Yes,” breathed out Lydia, looking at the one wall where the three girls’ bedrooms were. All of them had a closet along the back wall, and Erica began to explain how easily they could all be combined. 

Stiles may have checked out of the conversation at that point. 

He still knew enough to nod in the right places and say the right things when asked, but his attention was mostly on his room. It wouldn’t be large by any means, but it did look comfortable. He was already starting to figure out where his desk would go and what wall would be best to have built in bookshelves.

“Stiles,” Scott called from across the table, “Have you seen the library?”

“There’s a library?” Stiles asked. Maybe he wouldn’t need those bookshelves after all.

He ran over to Scott’s side, the girls barely noticing when he moved away, and began to take in every other part of Derek’s house. 

He had clearly thought of all of them when discussing it over with the architect. There was a large kitchen with plenty of counter space and two dishwashers, a large dining room that wasn’t too far away (Stiles was glad to see that Derek wasn’t fooling himself about how lazy everyone was about carrying food long distances). The living room was even bigger and had space for at least three couches. There was another room situated at the end of the house that was clearly meant to be another sitting room. With everyone having their own room, plenty of bathrooms, training areas in basement, a large library for studying, and large spaces to congregate, it was pretty much the definition of perfect.

****2015****

The blueprints in front of him now were vastly different from the Hale House blueprints. Where those had been neat and orderly, designed by the hands of a professional, these blueprints were clearly cobbled together. Danny had found an old image of the first floor of the building from when it was first created, back in the eighteenth century. The rest had been cobbled together from various pictures and descriptions of the palace. They had caught a break, in that the palace had been used as a base for a study abroad program for some university in Wisconsin. The program was over now, but it had lasted for over twenty years, and there was plenty of information about the palace from old participants’ descriptions.

Danny was in the corner of their tiny living of their tiny flat in Edinburgh, surfing the Internet for more pictures to refine the blueprints even more. They chose this city for its nearness to Greenburgh (about 15 miles away) and because it was a big city and easy to get lost in. Beacon Hills hadn’t been tiny, but it had still felt small, especially when everybody knew who the sheriff’s son was. It made looking for Derek’s kidnaper surprisingly difficult. They only had luck when they took Stiles out the equation. He had hated it, but it had been for Derek. He would do anything for Derek.

Lydia was going over it with him, both of them looking for a weakness in the structure. Greenburgh Palace wasn’t like Beacon Hills, surrounded by woods they could sneak through until they were close to the building. Yes, there was woods here, but the palace was surrounded first by open grass and then by an open parking lot. Not to mention there were two wings which symmetrically jabbed outwards, leaving the center as a smooth stone courtyard. It was too easy for them to imagine that the hunters would have men stationed in those wings, loading and reloading their guns. There was no way in except through the front door. Stiles had sent Scott and Isaac to scout it out, but he wasn’t sure if they would find anything. But until they knew for certain, Lydia and he were looking over the patchwork blueprints, debating over which room would probably hold Derek and how they could reach it in as few steps as possible.

****2013****

His relationship with Derek had started over the Hale House blueprints. Derek had wanted everyone’s opinion, but he asked Stiles the most questions. Together, they determined where panic rooms should be located, two for the wolves if they ever went ballistic and one for the humans to protect themselves against the wolves if they ever went ballistic. Stiles gave his input on the training room, the kitchen, even the laundry room. There wasn’t an inch of that house that Stiles had talked about for at least twenty minutes and there wasn’t a room that he hadn’t seen in his dreams. And when the final plans had been agreed on, Derek had leaned over the table and kissed Stiles. Then he had smiled, rolled up the blueprints, and walked out the door. It was the first time he left Stiles speechless.


	3. Tunnels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still at my beta's, so unedited but will probably be edited in the future.
> 
> Also, Greenburgh Palace is based on [ Dalkeith Palace ](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dalkeith_Palace) in Scotland. I say based on because some details have been radically changed (like the length of the tunnel) and some details are fuzzy (I participated in the study abroad program it hosts 9.5 years ago). 
> 
> Disclaimer: Once again, I own nothing. I just have fun with the characters.

****2013****

Stiles made the pack clean the tunnels on the Hale property before the building could begin. Derek had talked about wanting to make sure they were clean, but Stiles knew that he really wanted to make sure that his nightmares were really gone from that place. Stiles knew that old nightmares have a way of rearing their ugly heads when they should have been vanquished a long time ago. He didn’t want that to happen to Derek.

“Seriously,” said Lydia, “We can pay people to clean these out. Why do we have to do it?”

Lydia, Allison, and Erica were the only three women Stiles knew that could look like supermodels while they were wearing stained, torn, and just generally old clothes. He could hear the rhythmic thump-thump of Isaac and Boyd’s brooms as they knocked down cobwebs from the ceiling and walls. Lydia, Allison, and he were the sweep-up crew, using their brooms to catch the dust, dirt and ash from the floor. Behind him, Danny, Erica, and Scott were walking with some backpack style water tanks with a sprayer hose attached to get the first coat of grime off of the walls. Stiles couldn’t see them walking, but every once in awhile, a stream of water would catch him or Allison. At least the other three were smart enough not to hit Lydia.

“Sorry, Lydia,” he said, chasing a particularly slippery piece of wood with his broom, “But Derek’s putting enough money into making this house what we want it to be. He doesn’t need to pay for something that we can help him out with.”

“Was he going to pay someone? Because you said that he doesn’t need to, that that he doesn’t want to. Are you the reason I’m going to have to take at least two showers tonight?” Lydia asked. 

“Uh, probably,” Stiles said. He jerked back as Lydia suddenly blocked his path with her broom. 

“This better be worth it. Because I don’t get dirty for just anyone,” she said.

“Noted,” said Stiles, swallowing around the small lump of fear in his throat.

Allison rolled her eyes at their exchange, broom sweeping before her in a steady rhythm. 

When the tunnels were finally cleared, Stiles led the group outside into the sunshine.

****2015****

Isaac was also the one who came and told Stiles about the tunnel in Greenburgh. He had interrupted the conference with Stiles and Lydia, bursting through the door instead of quietly entering. Stiles supposed that had something to do with the fact that they almost had him. Derek was just a metaphoric arm length away.

“You have to see this, Stiles,” he said.

Stiles had nodded and then told Lydia to keep brainstorming. They didn’t have much time to come up with a plan if they didn’t want the hunters to move Derek again.

She told him she would. She didn’t tell him to be careful. It had become a given that those words followed any statement made by the group. They just couldn’t actually say the words any longer, too scared that they would accidentally jinx the other person.

Stiles followed Isaac to the bus stop. It took them a long bus ride and an even longer walk through a small wood. Stiles sniffed the air, scenting Scott. He was just ahead of them, hidden in the branches of an old oak tree. Stiles nodded as they passed, and he knew that Scott had gotten the message to stay there and keep watch. 

The tunnel’s exit looked like a culvert at the edge of a field. For a moment, it reminded Stiles of the old entrance to the Hale tunnels. The tunnels he had convinced Derek to extend to the river, so that no one could be caught in flames again. 

“In here,” said Isaac.

Stiles nodded. “Have you entered it yet?” he asked.

“No,” said Isaac, “we decided to wait for you. Do you want me to go down there with you or should I keep watch up here?”

“Scott’s already keeping watch,” Stiles said absently as he peered into the dark tunnel, “Come in here with me. Your senses are better than mine, in the dark.”

Isaac shrugged and pulled open the gate. “I don’t know about that,” he said, “You always seem to pick up on stuff before I do.”

Stiles snorted at that, then gave him a small shove into the darkness. 

They walked and walked. Stiles didn’t dare conjure up a light, although he really wanted to. He let Isaac walk ahead of him, since he could see better in the dark. Although he had learned to do many things with his magic over the past two years, Stiles had never figured out how to do that. His time and skills went into things that had better purpose, like his hearing skills or his ability to conjure illusions. Besides, there was always a willing and tough werewolf around to lead him into tight, dark spaces.

Isaac stopped after they had walked for ten minutes. 

“The end of the tunnel is about five feet ahead. Do you want to get closer?” he asked.

Stiles listened and focused his magic ahead of them, sending it out ahead of them through the dark and the door that appeared ahead of them. He felt the door hit his shoulder, but it had all the sensation of an ice cube melting down his arm, disturbing but not bothersome. Beyond that he felt a staircase, an empty room, and then a long hallway with many other rooms off of it. It was, he knew in his bones, the basic layout of all the palace’s hallways.

“I think we’re good,” he said, “I have an idea of where this tunnel connects. Good job finding it.”

Isaac was looked lighter when he led Stiles through the tunnel and out into the light. 

“Is this it? Are we finally getting him back?” he asked.

Stiles immediately bent down and rapped his knuckles against a stick lying in the grass. He kept knocking the wood when he said, “Yeah, I think so.”

****2013****

Derek was the one who did the final cleaning of the tunnels under his house. He had remained outside with the pack after they had finished their cleaning. While they had been busy inside, he had spread out a huge picnic. Stiles had spent the night before with him, making every kind of sandwich and salad that they could think of. To see the spread around them was like looking at a king’s meal. Tuna salad, potato salad, four kinds of pasta salad, Jell-O, bags of potato chips, at least three kinds of dip, and sandwiches made with every kind of meat, vegetable, bread, and cheese in the grocery store filled two picnic tables. A cooler filled with different types of soda sat at the very end. 

After the picnic came a pick-up game of lacrosse that even Lydia, Erica, and Allison participated in. With more than half of the players being werewolves, it was pretty violent but also hilarious, especially when Isaac imitated Jackson’s bitch face when one of the humans had a particularly good move.

After the game, Lydia insisted on going home to shower and stop feeling gross. Somehow that became the girls planning a girls’ night. Then Scott left to finish an assignment for summer school. Isaac, Danny, and Boyd left for a movie. Finally, Stiles and Derek were all that were left.

Derek used a pressure washer to get the last of the dirt inside the tunnels while Stiles sat outside on a blanket under the stars. When Derek was finished, he came out and lay down on the blanket. Stiles shifted so that he was lying against Derek’s side. And Derek began to talk. He told Stiles about his family, describing Laura and Talia and the rest in such detail that Stiles swore he could see them rising in the mist before him. Stiles, in turn, told Derek about his mother and how much his father had changed since she died.

When the sky began to lighten with the approaching dawn, Stiles realized that though they hadn’t kissed, had barely touched all night, this moment was more intimate than anything Stiles had ever experienced before. He had a feeling it was the same for Derek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update Schedule: I'm going to post every Tues., come hell or high water (or possibly a blizzard. Spring still isn't here.)


	4. Taken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the rating has gone up since I added some violence in, and I'm pretty sure that there will be more. I'm not too sure if the action works--let me know what you think!
> 
> Also, I used American names for things because I figured that Stiles & Co. would. I actually had to edit out several British/Scottish phrases.

****2013****

The hunters came after the tunnel had been expanded to the river, the basement had been rebuilt, and the old house pulled down and buried. They came when the frame for the new house was halfway built, rising like the skeleton of an ancient beast into the sky. 

They took Stiles for the usual reasons. He was human and therefore weaker. He was dating the Alpha, so a fight was pretty inevitable. He was central enough to the pack that any knowledge he passed on had to be useful.

They took Danny because he was there.

Stiles, Danny, and Allison met at the house at Stiles’ house to discuss the merging of the two bestiaries. Stiles thought that it might be a nice housewarming gift, especially if they had it printed and bound. He even knew somebody who would illustrate it as the work of fiction they thought it was. 

“What do we want to keep from the hunter’s bestiary about the kanima?” Danny asked. 

Allison looked over her hard copy of it. Like Stiles’ copy, it was full of notes and red lines. Unlike Stiles’ copy, it was legible to people besides her. “I think we should keep the information about the Brazilian legend in there. We need to keep track of our sources.”

“Plus, it doesn’t hurt that it shows us an example of how truth can be found in the fiction,” Stiles said.

“Yeah, okay,” said Allison, “but isn’t that a little deep for a bestiary?”

“Future generations will appreciate my genius,” Stiles said.

“While the current generation just hangs on for the ride,” Allison said, her voice light and teasing.

Stiles stuck his tongue out at her. Later, when he had spent too many hours tied up to a chair with blood dripping down his chin and bruises forming on his body, Stiles would cling to the carefreeness of that moment. But at that moment, all he could hear is breaking glass.

****2015****

Scott and Isaac kept their watch on Greenburgh Palace, not wanting to risk bugging the place after the last time the hunters had found them. They told Stiles when finally, after days and days of watching, one hunter went off on his own. 

They wasted no time. Boyd, Scott, Allison, Erica, and Stiles were the kidnapping party, while Isaac kept watch over Lydia and Danny. Because the majority of the group was located a far bit of distance away, they didn’t even bother with trying to catch the hunter before he went into town or spacing out their arrival into the town of Greenburgh. They all piled into the car they had rented for this purpose and drove down the darker streets on the wrong side of the road to the town. They all piled into the car they had rented for this purpose and drove down the darker streets on the wrong side of the road to the town. They parked it on the street and walked together to a small church’s parking lot, located just before the path that leads to the palace. 

Allison and Erica split off from the group then and headed over to the church. Stiles followed them until they were standing about ten feet from the front door.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked.

Allison tightened her hand around her bow and nodded. “Yes,” she said.

“Just get moving, Batman,” Erica said. 

Stiles smiled, but it fell quickly off of his face when he raised his face to the sky and lifted up his arms. 

“Jump,” he said.

The women took a running jump, and Stiles used their upward momentum to lift them into the air. He couldn’t steady them, too much of his magic was going into the lift, but Erica used her werewolf reflexes to quickly grab onto a spire of the church and cling to Allison’s hand. Erica raised up her left arm, and Stiles nodded. 

He turned back to the others, trusting Erica and Allison to hide themselves on the roof of the church. He nodded at Boyd and Scott, and they walked into the dark beneath the trees on the other side of the lot. He was glad that he didn’t have to help them with hiding, that Derek’s training had been enough. 

When they were gone from sight, Stiles sat in the middle of the parking lot. He folded his legs and rested his arms on them with the palms facing up. He meditated in this pose, conserving and rebuilding his energy, waiting for the hunter to return. 

****2013****

As soon as he heard the sound of his window breaking, Stiles turned towards it and threw the first thing he grabbed, the large binder holding both versions of the bestiary, at the intruders. It spun a little in the air and knocked into the stomach of the first intruder. The first intruder fell sideways, leaving a clear opening for the hunter coming behind him to shoot. 

Before Stiles could move his chair away from the desk, the arrow lodged in his arm. He fell backward, only to have Danny grab his arm and pull him away from the window. The three of them huddled on the side of his desk, keeping it between them. Allison has a small crossbow in her hands, and she fired rapidly at the approaching hunter. 

The hunter laughed and shot at the computer instead. It started sparking, and the three of them quickly backed out of the way. Unfortunately, this put them out in the open. The hunter trained his crossbow on Allison as she aimed hers at him. Stiles watched them stale-mate, neither wanting to lower their weapons nor to take the shot. He was about to say something when a heavily calloused hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back.

“Stand down, Miss,” a rough voice said.

Stiles tried to squirm out of the man’s grasp, but he forced his body to stop trying to get away when he felt the arm slide around his shoulder and the cold gun barrel pressed against the other side of his head.

“Let him go,” Allison said. 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Miss. Not until you put the crossbow down,” the man said.

Allison gulped and looked over at Stiles. His brain was whirling a mile a minute, but it wasn’t pointing out any way for them to get out of this situation. Ideas were coming, but they were too complicated or had failed them before. Slowly, Stiles nodded at her. 

She lowered the crossbow to the floor. She looked at him one more time. He forced himself to look steadily at her, never breaking his gaze. She swallowed and let it go out of her hands. 

When she had stood up and taken a few steps back, the man holding him backed up to the door. The other hunter quickly reached out and grabbed Danny.

“We’ll take these two with us for insurance,” he said.

“Hey,” Allison yelled out as Stiles was yanked out the door.

As the man pulled him down the staircase, Stiles tried to see what was going on above him. They were backing out the room and into the hallway. Danny was being held in a similar grip to his own. He looked scared, especially as his kidnapper grinned into the room.

“You don’t want to do that, Miss,” he said, “This one is only for insurance purposes. We don’t really need him. I could just, you know, let my finger slip on this trigger here.”

Stiles heard a thump come from his room, like Allison had thrown something onto the floor. 

The man holding Danny smiled. “Good choice, Miss, good choice.”

With that comment, he pulled Danny to the staircase and followed Stiles and his kidnapper down.

As the men shoved first him and then Danny in the car, Stiles heard Allison shout from his window, “We’ll be coming for you! You will regret this day!”

The man who had taken Stiles out snorted. Stiles glanced up at the window and kept Allison in sight as long as he could. He knew that out of the three of them, the correct two had been taken. Allison had the training and the guts to save Danny and him. And she’d bring Scott, Isaac, Boyd, and Erica. And Derek. Hell yes, and Derek. Derek would definitely kick their asses.

****2015****

Stiles didn’t know how long he waited for the hunter to come back. It felt like it was only a moment ago that he lifted Erica and Allison onto the roof. It was only a moment ago that they found the tunnel, figured out the layout of the palace, that they came to Greenburgh. It was only a moment ago that Derek had snatched a kiss from him and this whole thing started. But he _knew _deep in his guts that he had lived lifetimes since that first kiss and that picnic under the stars. And he knew that the hunter before hadn’t just come upon him in the middle of nowhere. He had been sought out.__

“Are you okay?” a soft voice broke into Stile’s thoughts.

He opened his eyes. “Yes, I am. But you won’t be.”

He raised his right arm then, and Erica came jumping off the roof of the church. She was beautiful, his Furie, with the moonlight glinting on her hair and on the church roof behind her. She grabbed the hunter and pulled him to her chest. Before her fingernail had a chance to lengthen so it was at his throat, the hunter jabbed his elbows back into her side, took a step back into her instep, pushed the heel of his hand into her nose, and then brought a fist down to her groin. She let go of him immediately and stepped back. Her face was pained. Though she would recover, there was no way she could take on the hunter with half of her body hurting.

The hunter smirked at Stiles, who was still sitting cross-legged on the ground. 

“That all?” he asked, bringing his hands into his pockets.

“No,” said Stiles, voice calm and flat, “That was round one.”

He raised his left arm and Boyd and Scott flew out of the woods. Scott quickly circled behind the hunter while Boyd crouched on his left side. Erica crouched on his left. They all growled, low and threatening. 

“Okay, that’s more like it,” the hunter said. He spun to face Scott and pulled his hands out of his pockets. There was a knife in each one. Scott rushed forward. The hunter brought up his right hand and slashed down. He hit Scott’s face and sent him reeling to Boyd. At the same time, Erica growled and charged on his right. The hunter tried to repeat the move, but Erica grabbed his arm and yanked it back. Allison sent an arrow down from the church roof. It hit the hunter’s hand, and the knife dropped. It clattered to the ground while he screamed. Stiles reached out with his magic and brought it back to him. 

Meanwhile, Erica had kept the hunter’s arm moving until it was pulled behind his back. He whipped his other arm around and slashed at her arm. Erica yanked on his hand so that the arrow in it moved. Again he screamed. His arm still moved blindly behind him. He nicked Erica’s hand, and she hissed. She let go of his arm with one hand and tried to catch the other. If there hadn’t been a knife probably laced with wolfsbane in his hand, it would have been funny. It looked kind of like a cat trying to catch a mouse. But the knife was there, and Stiles couldn’t lose sight of that. 

He made to stand up, but before he could, Boyd was there to grab onto the arm. Scott walked up to the hunter and pressed a cloth soaked in ether over his nose. The man fell backwards in Erica and Boyd’s arms. 

“You got him?” Stiles asked the two betas.

They nodded.  
“Okay, I’ll go get Allison then.” Stiles stood up then and walked over to the church with Scott beside him.

You do know that this may not work, right? He may not have any information that we can use,” Scott said.

"I know,” said Stiles, “But I have to believe that he does. Otherwise, I’ll start to question this whole venture.”

Scott nodded and looked down. Doubt wasn’t something any of them could afford to have. Not when they were still close.

When they arrived at the church, Allison was standing on the roof, tall and proud. She nodded at Stiles, and he lowered her to the ground. She took his hand and Scott’s. Together, they walked back to the car and to the hunter.


	5. Torture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, although I would love to. They belong to Jeff Davis, and I just have fun with the. 
> 
> The Drusilla torture technique is based off of one from season two of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ , "Becoming-Part II." I'm finding Buffy to be a great source of inspiration for violence.
> 
> Also, did anyone recognize the move the hunter put on Allison in the previous chapter? Shout-out for the person who recognizes it . . .

****2015****

“I will be the first one, won’t I, Stiles?” Scott asked as they tied the unconscious hunter to the chair.

“Of course, Scott, I wouldn’t deny you that,” Stiles said, suddenly annoyed that his best friend would doubt him.

Scott smiled at him as he tightened the final knot. “I know you wouldn’t,” he said, “But you are Derek’s mate. You might want to go first.”

Stiles smiled in relief, “No, no, you are going first, then Allison, and I’ll be last.”

“What about the others?” Scott asked.

Stiles sighed. He wanted to give them all a chance, to let all of them pound into this final hunter all their frustration and anger at the long the chase and Derek’s disappearance. He had talked to Lydia, Danny, Erica, Isaac, Boyd, and Allison about this issue months ago, feeling in his bones that this last trail would finally lead them to Derek. The trio of wolves had been disappointed, wanting their share of revenge, but everyone agreed that Lydia’s suggestion of Allison being one of the torturers was brilliant. Erica, Boyd, and Stiles could easily testify to how well versed her family had been in torture. Sure, now she was using it against hunters, but that hadn’t stopped her before. It wouldn’t stop her now. She had made her choice, and this was her family now. The wolves had finally agreed to let Scott, Stiles, and Allison lead the torture session while they both guarded the humans and kept watch. 

“They understand,” was all he said.

Scott nodded, knowing that there was an entire story there that he wasn’t getting but that also wasn’t necessary for what they were about to do.

****2013****

Stiles woke up with his head aching. He barely remembered being knocked out, just the feeling of someone yanking his arm forward and a sharp pain from the needle poking into his skin. He shook his head to try and clear away some of the lingering fuzziness, but when he moved his head, he realized that it was actually his arms that were aching, and that was because they were tied together. The rope tying them together was then thrown over a big hook in the ceiling.

He looked around, looking for something that could help free him, but though there were tools laid out on a tray table before him, they were too far away for him to reach. His feet didn’t quite reach the floor, but maybe, with a little stretching. Before he could figure it out, a door on his right-hand side opened. The room he was in had been so darkened that the sudden burst of bright sunlight temporarily blinded him.

“I heard once,” a silky smooth voice came from the doorway, “that you were kidnapped and beaten by a seventy-nine year old man with cancer. I thought to myself that no one could be so pathetic, but then, we had hardly any trouble in getting you.”

“There were extenuating circumstances then. Like I had just won the state lacrosse championship and wasn’t paying attention,” Stiles said.

“And the not lifting a finger to help yourself when the old guy wailed on you?” the voice came again, only this time from a different direction.

“He ambushed me,” Stiles said.

“Sure, sure, tell yourself that. Then what about today?” the voice said.

Stiles gulped when he realized that there wasn’t a good answer for that. “No werewolf with us,” he finally said.

The hunter walked out in front of him, then threw his head back and laughed. “Nice answer,” he said, “and close enough to the truth that I’ll let it slide.”

“Um, thank you,” said Stiles.

“You won’t thank me later,” the hunter said. He reeled back his arm and slammed it into Stiles’ jaw.

****2015**** 

Scott took a step back after throwing his last punch. The hunter before him was covered in blood and bruises, as many as Scott could find room for. The hunter spat out a mouthful of blood and smiled up at him.

“That all you got?” he asked.

“For now,” said Scott, “but I’m not the only one who wants a turn.”

He walked out through the door that was next to Stiles. He had watched the hunter during Scott’s entire interrogation. He would watch him through Allison’s. Then it would be his turn. 

A few minutes after Scott left, the door beside him opened, and Allison walked into the room. Her long hair was pulled back into two braids that trailed down her back. She held a small crossbow in her hands. She lifted it up and shot the hunter in the left thigh. 

The hunter screamed.

Allison reloaded, aimed again, and hit the man in the right shoulder. 

He screamed again.

“Are you going to tell us?” she asked.

He shook his head.

Eventually, when there was five arrows embedded in his body, Allison put down the crossbow and picked up the cattle prod. Allison had modified it so that it was hooked up to a small generator on side.

“Recognize this?” she asked as she ran her hands along its long silver surface, “I do. This was my aunt’s favorite weapon. Electricity was my grandfather’s favorite form of torture. As a family, we knew the exact amount of electricity it took to keep werewolves from shifting or healing. As a former hunter, I have figured out the right amount of electricity it takes to simply make someone’s foot jump.”

She swung the cattle prod down to the hunter’s leg and let it touch. The leg jumped, but the hunter didn’t make a sound.

“I have also figured out how much electricity can bring you just the slightest amount of pain.” 

Allison twisted the dial on the generator up a little, than brought the cattle prod to the hunter’s arm. He groaned with the small amount of pain.

“And I know how to make it hurt a lot,” Allison said.

She turned the dial up higher and quickly jabbed the cattle prod into the man’s side. He screamed, the sound reverberating around the abandoned house they were in.

Stiles watched Allison torture the man. She was beautiful in her rage, his second Furie. Some part of him mourned every time she touched the cylinder to the man’s body and another scream tore out of his throat, but he trampled it down. Allison had changed a lot in the past two years, but so had everybody. Stiles could unequivocally state that he was no longer the ADHD-riddled spazz he had been before Derek had been taken. He had learned to use his disease so that the distractions he needed to function were distractions that would eventually free Derek. And Stiles was selfish enough to be glad of that.

****2013****

Stiles really wished that the man would stop hitting him. He didn’t know how many blows he had absorbed, how much blood was dripping down his arms or face. He didn’t know anything, except this man was truly insane.

“What exactly is it that you want?” he asked, “’Cause I’m pretty sure that I’m not in any position to help you.”

The man smiled and wiped his hand on the formerly white handkerchief hanging from his pocket.

“I don’t want a single thing,” he said, “except your werewolf lover to come and rescue you.”

“Lover?” said Stiles, “How would you know if our relationship has progressed that far?”

“You mean it hasn’t? That’s too bad. If it had, then he would probably have been here by now, what with the freaky mental connection that forms between mates. Oh, well. I guess we’ll have to wait for your friend to tell him,” the hunter said. He brought his hand back and punched Stiles another time.

****2015****

This hunter before them had been well trained. Scott hadn’t broken him, although he hadn’t even tried more than twice to get any information out of him. Allison’s brand of torture hadn’t worked either. She stood panting next to Stiles against the wall. 

“I think you’re going to have to do the Drusilla torture-method,” she said.

Stiles smiled at this. “Thank the gods for Buffy,” he said as he pushed himself off of the wall.

“Amen, brother,” Allison said.

Stiles smiled at her and then turned towards the hunter. He circled him, looking for a small crack in his stance, in his attitude that could let him in. Finally, the hunter lowered his head just a teeny-tiny bit. But it was enough. Stiles used that small movement to let his magic dive into the man’s mind, looking for the one person that he wanted to see the most at this moment. It didn’t take more than a moment to pull her out. Then he walked around to the front of the hunter and crouched down before him. He put his hands in front of the hunter’s eyes.

While the hunter couldn’t see, Stiles used his magic to glamour his face into her face and the tiny hotel room into the place the hunter most wanted to see. When he was done, he removed his hands.

“Karen,” the hunter said.

“I’m here,” said Stiles-as-Karen. 

“What’s going on? There were these three peo--” the hunter said.

“Don’t worry about them, they’re not here,” Stiles-as-Karen said.

“Where are we?” the hunter asked.

“Where do you think we are?” Stiles-as-Karen asked.

“Home,” he said.

“Then that’s where we are. You know they’ll stop if you tell them what they want to know,” Stiles-as-Karen said.

“I know, but I don’t want them to do anything worse. What if they kill me, Karen, after I tell them? I might never make it back to you,” the hunter said. He sounded so broken and so dejected that Stiles was reminded, for a moment, of his own heart bleeding out for Derek, laying the pathway to this event. And because of that moment, Stiles decided to take pity on the man. 

“If you tell them, they have promised to not hurt you. They’ll even pay for a plane ticket out of here, if you want it,” Stiles-as-Karen said.

“Really? I can come back and see you? I don’t have to be here, doing this any longer?” the hunter asked.

“Yes,” said Stiles-as-Karen.

“Then I’ll tell them. I’ll tell them for you, Karen,” the hunter said.

“Thank you,” Stiles-as-Karen said, “Now close your eyes.” 

Stiles covered the hunter’s eyes with his hands again and willed the illusion away. He kept the hunter still, however, until he had moved back a couple steps. Then he snapped his fingers, and the hunter opened his eyes.

“Are you ready to talk?” Stiles asked.

“Yes,” said the hunter.

An hour later and the hunter was boarding a plane to America, forged passport in his hand and the strongest cloaking spell Stiles knew covering him. He also had Stiles’ phone number, in case something went wrong. Even with this, Stiles didn’t like to leave loose ends.

****2013****

Stiles didn’t know when the pack had burst into the old tool shed behind some creepy mansion in town. He didn’t know when Derek put his ear to his chest, looking for some trace of the heart that normally beat so steady and so strong. He didn’t feel Derek carrying him out or hear Scott asking what happened. He didn’t feel the car ride to the hospital, speeding too fast along the highway. 

Stiles did know, when he woke up in the hospital, was that there was something that Derek wasn’t telling him, something that was more dangerous than even the Alpha Pack. 

As he sat up in his bed eating delicious green Jell-O and watching his friends sleep in the uncomfortable-looking hospital chairs, Stiles decided that Derek was going to have share some information with him. And if he didn’t, well, Stiles didn’t want to think about what would happen if Derek didn’t share. He didn’t want to think about breaking his own heart.


	6. Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay--turns out that it wasn't weather that stopped me, but a combination of a lot going on with work, babysitting a 2 year old for an entire weekend, and a car breaking down that did it. I did have an interview for a dream-ish job and was told I was on a shortlist for another (I have to wrap my mind around purchasing two books for about $60 and then taking a test to move on in the job-seeking process). So not all bad. Just a lot in a short time.
> 
> For your patience, this chapter is dedicated to all my bookmarkers, kudoers, and commenters. I appreciate every single one of you more than you could know. So thank you very, very, very much!

****2013****

Derek didn’t come to see him in the hospital. Well, that’s not exactly true. Derek came to see Stiles, but only after he had fallen asleep and between times when the nurses checked on him. Stiles knew this because when he first woke up, there had been a vase with only one red rose. With each subsequent night of his hospital stay, another rose was added to the vase. Stiles knew that Derek was doing it to reassure him, to let him know that he wasn’t being ignored, but it certainly felt that way. While the roses were pretty, they were in no shape or form equal to the awesome broodiness that was Derek Hale. Plus, there was an entire conversation Derek was avoiding by being so covert with his visits.

Stiles wasn’t Stiles, however, without being sneaky. He tried to stay awake all night in the hospital, but Melissa McCall pretty much put a kibosh on that when she went in to check on Stiles before going home for the night. She saw him sitting up, asked him if he was in pain, and when Stiles predictably flailed around for a good excuse, conked him out with a sleeping pill. Despite it being the best night of sleep he had in the longest time, it still let Derek slip by him to leave another rose in the vase.

When there were fourteen roses in the vase, Stiles was finally allowed to go back home.

****2015****

They watched the airplane take flight from a big window on the second floor. As a child, Stiles had always loved watching the planes take off when he was kid, the magic of their seeming impossible ability reverberating in his bones. He watched this one with a joy that far surpassed every other he had watched planes. 

He managed to keep calm when they walked out of the airport to the nearest bus stop. Scott couldn’t stop grinning at him, and Allison kept herself snuggled up to his side. Yeah, this was what they had been waiting for. He managed to let Edinburgh take his attention as they sat on the top of the bus, feeling a bit like a little kid on a carnival ride from the height, but loving the panorama of city streets with ancient and modern buildings standing side by side. 

He kept his calm all the way to their front door. Then he threw it open and yelled, “Everyone get in here. We have information!”

He swore he could hear the collective sigh of relief for finally having something concrete.

****2013****

It was easier to stay awake when nurses aren’t constantly checking on you, especially when one of them is your best friend’s mother who has known you for far too many years and can tell when you are trying to bullshit her into letting you stay up late. 

Derek, of course, didn’t realize this. Or maybe he did but thought that Stiles would be too wiped out from coming home to bother to wait up for him.

He should have known better.

When he slid open Stiles’ window as quietly as he could and slung one leg over the ledge, he almost fell backwards when the light beside Stiles’ bed flicked on.

“Well, what do we have here?” Stiles asked. The light barely landed on him, only shining orange along his left side, leaving a glow along his hair and arm. “A sneaking sourwolf?”

“Stiles,” Derek said, half exasperated and half relief. He pulled his leg into the room and stood by the window.

“You’ve been avoiding me, Derek,” Stiles said. 

“Yes,” said Derek, still on edge.

“Were you going to tell me?” asked Stiles.

“I hadn’t been planning on it, no,” Derek said.

“Why?” said Stiles, “Are you ashamed?” His voice broke on the last word, so Stiles turned his head and rested it on his shoulder.

“Kind of, yes,” Derek said.

A small choking sob tried to make its way out of Stiles’ throat, but he cut it off halfway. He still refused to look at Derek and tried to will the tears from falling from his eyes.

Derek could smell the salt water when it first hit Stiles’ cheek. Before he even knew what he was doing, Derek was crawling into the empty side of Stiles’ bed and pulling him to his chest. Stiles curled up even more on his lap. 

“I didn’t want to tell you about me because, well, because it’s a pretty scary thing to admit, even to myself,” Derek said.

Stiles became angry at those words. He sat up and looked at Derek, wiping the tears away from his eyes, “When did I become so terrifying? Is it really that hard to imagine that I could be your mate?” 

Derek couldn’t help it; he laughed. “God, is that what you think I’m saying, Stiles? That’s just impossible to me.” 

Stiles still frowned at him, not knowing what to think.

Derek sobered up when he saw Stiles’ indecision. “What I meant is that you as my mate actually kind of makes perfect sense. You talk too much while I talk too little. You make a plan before rushing headlong into a fight. I seldom plan anything. But we both understand loss, and we both cling a little tighter to the good things because of it. 

“There’s a whole bunch more reasons why you don’t scare me, Stiles, but right now, the only thing that is really standing out in my mind is that you don’t scare me because you would die before you hurt me. I know I would die before someone or something hurt you. I’m so certain of this that it becomes one of those facts that just is, like gravity or the laws of the conservation of energy. It is so simple and so _duh!_ that I can’t deny it. And I don’t want to. Ever,” Derek said. 

Stiles relaxed after that, but then he sat up after a moment. “So what is it that scares the big bad alpha so badly?” he asked.

Derek groaned and ran his hand over his hair. “It’s stupid,” he said.

“Try me,” said Stiles.

“I know why the hunters took you, and it wasn’t the mate thing. If they believe that, then they are really naïve, badly informed, or were just plain lying to you,” Derek said.

“So why did they take me?” asked Stiles.

“They took you,” Derek looked down at his chest and mumbled, “Because I’m currently the most powerful alpha in North America.”

“What?” said Stiles, “Say that again.”

 

****2015****

Danny was the first one in the living room. He’s the one that had been kept away from most of the action, made safe by first the pack’s refusal to let Danny travel with them, and then, when Isaac had come to Stiles and asked that Danny be kept as safe as possible, by Stiles’ decree that humans only fought when they would be kept out of most of the action. As the alpha’s mate and a mage, he didn’t put himself in that category anymore.

“You found something?” he asked.

Lydia was close behind him, her mouth pressed into a tight line, her hair pulled back into a messy bun, and a pile of papers in her arms. 

“Is any of this going to be useful?” she asked.

“Probably,” said Stiles, “Will you show me what you two have come up with?”

“Sure,” Lydia said. She set the stack of papers down on the coffee table and began to dig through it. 

As she looked for her paper, she said, “So what did we get that’s useful?”

“Everything, Lydia,” Stiles said, “Everything.”

She pulled out a sheet of paper, and Stiles looked it over. 

“This is a good basis,” he said, “But now that we know more details about the house, we need to refine this.”

“So what do we know?” she asked, her pen already poised above a blank notebook.

“Three quarters of the top floor is missing floorboards,’ he said, “and there’s only one staircase that goes to the room they’re holding Derek in.” 

“So he’s on the fourth floor?” Danny asked.

“According to the hunter we captured, yes. I’m not sure how much longer he’ll be kept there though,” Stiles said as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“Why not?” asked Lydia, her eyes bright and intent upon him.

“We sent him home,” Stiles said, “We let the hunter go.”

If this was two years ago and Stiles was the one hearing the news, he would have given a dramatic gasp at this point. However, Danny and Lydia have always been more collected than him. They just sit there and stare until he tells them.

“I had to,” he said, “He had a family, people he loved that he was protecting. I’m doing the same damn thing. I have to respect that.”

“Okay, we can get behind that,” Danny said, “Now tell us more about the palace.”

Stiles began to go into detail, describing each and every room like the hunter had, leaving out nothing that the hunter had said, except for one thing.

One thing he was not thinking about.

No, he would never think that.

****2013****

Derek looked up and into Stiles’ eyes. Stiles was staring straight at him, challenging him with his gaze like he had a thousand times before. 

“Do you remember that whole running off of the alpha pack thing?” Derek asked.

Stiles nodded.

“Do you remember when the Naiads and the Dryads and all the other nymphs and the satyrs and everyone that is a part of the forest decided to rise against our pack? Do you remember how we had that big battle with them while you tried to bind them back to their natural forms?”

Stiles nodded again. How could he forget? That had been the first time he realized that his magic was tied to what was, not what could be. He couldn’t ever conjure something out of thin air, but he could take a tree that had once housed a naiad and pull them back into it. 

“Well, apparently, running off the most notorious werewolf pack in North America and then bringing an entire forest under your will gains you power. It makes you so powerful that other packs pay you homage and an even bigger bull’s eye than the one for merely existing as a werewolf appears on your back for hunters and challengers,” Derek said.

“So now you’re like the hugest big bad around?” Stiles asked.

“Yes,” said Derek, “And it’s weird. I wasn’t even supposed to be the alpha. Being this powerful, I don’t like it.”

“I don’t like it, Sam I Am,” Stiles said, in a half petulant manner, only half concentrating on the joke. The rest of him was thinking about what it actually meant to have other people fear you so much. Derek had known what it felt like to be the big bad wolf since childhood, but he always had other werewolves around to make it seem not as bad. Now the only people who weren’t scared or threatened were Derek’s own pack. And of them, only Stiles had no tiny sliver of fear hidden deep down. 

“Is the reason why I’m your mate because I’m truly not scared of you? Or am I not scared of you because I am your mate?” Stiles asked.

“I don’t know,” said Derek, “All I know is that I like it. You challenging makes me better.”

Stiles smiled at him. “You being my rock makes me better,” he said.

Derek kissed him then. Stiles loved the feel of Derek’s lips on his, on the way Derek licked into his mouth and took over. Stiles knew that Derek’s protectiveness of him wouldn’t let them do more than makeout until Stiles was feeling better, so he sunk into his kisses and didn’t push for more. Because there totally would be more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted everyone to know that there is only one or two more chapters left in this story, but I have decided to have at least one more in this AU because I'm liking writing it. The next fic will be from Derek's POV (I thought it was a little late in the story to add it here), and possibly Stiles' again or maybe Scott? Is there another POV you guys want to read?


	7. Preparations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, sorry, sorry for the delay in this. Real life stayed complicated, with lots of interviews and work and taking care of my parents (who are both of the verge of being old). The interviews paid off, however, since I was offered a job as a Library Assistant at the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire McIntyre Library. (I'm so excited, it's crazy.) 
> 
> I also switched allergy meds for a month. I took something that put me in a fog where I could think about writing (and I thought about it a lot, like every day) but not actually write. What I did write was horrible. It took me awhile to salvage what I could and rewrite the rest. One more chapter left in this part!

****2013****

The last thing Stiles was expecting to happen when he got out of the hospital was the prom. 

Stiles knows that he should have known better. Especially when his pack contains Lydia. And Erica. And Allison. He really should have known better. It was almost too normal a thought, that they could go to their high school gym, decorated to look like something out of a young girl’s fantasy, and spend the night dancing and laughing in clothes that were too fancy for everyday use.

Two weeks after Derek and him talked, two weeks after Stiles found out that their pack and their world was a little more complicated than he thought, the girls come to drag him out of bed and to remind him, so it would seem, that his life was also a little more simple than he thought.

Of course, they do this in the most annoying way possible.

Stiles was asleep, happy in his dreamland where Derek and he could frolic in daisies or fight off the latest evil. If this dream in particular happened to feature more of the flowers than the danger, well, Stiles can’t control what his subconscious dreams about. If he could, it would be Derek porn 24/7.

They had just gotten to the corner of the field where the unicorns graze when he felt the ground shift underneath them. He bounced on the green grass and laughed as Derek grabbed his hand.

“Ew, gross, Stilinski, let go of my hand. Who knows where it’s been?” Lydia’s voice broke through some clouds in the sky, and it took Stiles a few minutes to realize that she was actually talking to him in real life, not in his dream.

“Go away,” he said, dropping Lydia’s hand and then batting it away, “I’m sleeping.”

“No!” Erica yelled, as the bed started to bounce even harder.

“You know this torture will end if you just get up,” Allison said, the hard edge of her hunter phase coloring her words enough so that Stiles felt the threat in them, the threat that Allison would half hate herself for letting him hear, if she realized it.

Lydia just grabbed his pillow and pulled it away.

“Fine, fine, fine,” he said, sitting up on the edge of the bed, “You win. I’m up.”

Lydia looked him over, his torn t-shirt and boxers apparently not passing her test. She sighed. “Go take a shower,” she said, “then meet us downstairs for breakfast. We’re taking you shopping for the prom.”

Stiles sighed, but he still stood up to do what she said. He knew better than to get between Lydia and a shopping trip.

****2015****

The first step was, Stiles was surprised to find out, clothing.

He should have known better than to be surprised when Lydia was on his side. 

It wasn’t like they didn’t have plenty of clothes to choose from. Over the last two years, everybody’s wardrobe had expanded to included camouflage for pretty much every type of environment you could encounter, as well as a variety of civilian clothes so they could easily blend in no matter what city and/or country they were in. All their purchases had been spearheaded by Lydia or Erica. 

So really, what was one more camo outfit?

Because really, none of their camouflage outfits were dark enough to blend into the forest at night. They could wear black, but there was always a risk that clothes like that would blend in too much. 

So dark green camo, chosen by Erica and Lydia over the Internet, and hauled across the ocean by Jackson, was the logical first step.

Jackson hadn’t been happy to hear what he was supposed to bring, but it really took Lydia almost no time at all to convince him to do it. He was an anomaly in their pack. Technically part of a pack on the East Coast, but surprisingly loyal to the pack that gave him the bite, Jackson had supplied frequent encouragement (Stiles freely admitted that Jackson giving him a pep talk sounded weird for only the first fifty times) and frequent monetary donations. Occasionally, he would fly to wherever they were and help out with some big plan. With loyalty as strong as his, there was no way they were going to keep him away now. 

Stiles knew that he wasn’t as fashion conscious as Lydia, but he really missed his flannel and graphic t-shirts right about now.

****2013****

Stiles officially hated the mall. He used to like it, used to think it was a good place, but the girls have shown him the error of his ways. It was a devil’s trap and needed to be stopped, preferably now.

Stiles swore that he had been dragged to every single store that might possibly contain a dress in them. He had watched three purses and three piles of dresses while the girls tried on every single style and color combination on the planet. Stiles was sure that Erica had put on a milkmaid’s dress at one point, complete with buckets hanging from a yoke. 

The point is that the girls have left no dress untried on, and when, after at least five hours, they had found their dream dresses. Allison looked like a Disney princess in her rose pink dress, Lydia was a slightly terrifying vision of beauty in her dark purple gown, and Erica chose a surprisingly subdued but still gorgeous dress in green. Stiles was exhausted and couldn’t wait to drive home. 

Before he could even suggest it though, Lydia pulled his arm into a tuxedo shop. 

“We need to make sure your tux is as awesome as our dresses,” she said.

Stiles perked up at that. “Does that mean I can wear a powder blue tux with a ruffley shirt?” he asked.

“I said awesome not depressing, Stiles,” she said. 

Erica and Allison were already waiting in the shop, having sneaked ahead while Lydia was pulling him in. 

“Lydia, come over here,” Allison said.

Lydia walked over by the girls and left Stiles standing in the middle of the shop. Large plastic bags holding the girls’ dresses dangled from his arms. 

“Stiles, come here,” Lydia yelled. Stiles sighed and let himself be pulled further into the shop and further into the ladies’ clutches. 

He knew he was really going to hate the mall after this.

****2015****

The next step, for Stiles at least, was the pins. He wanted to keep an eye on everyone when they were far away from him. There was a sort of pack bond among the werewolves, but the humans were left out of the loop. Stiles had paired most of them up with a wolf so that the information could be spread, and so that they could keep an eye on each other. One couldn’t be too careful when it came to what could bring down the wolves. These hunters were good. They knew most of the tricks. So did the pack. They knew how to get around those tricks.

Stiles’ method was to make sure that he could keep an eye on everyone in the pack. So Stiles looked over his books, most of them scanned and loaded onto his laptop so that they didn’t have to worry about carting them across continents. He looked for something that would help him. He finally found an incantation that would work, if he used the correct ingredients for it. 

The next day he took Allison with him to look over items at all the touristy shops along the Royal Mile. He would spend the money to get something really nice for everyone, but he didn’t want to spend any cash unnecessarily. Plus, whatever he used could just be considered a souvenir from Scotland, something easily passed off if other people questioned it.

He found it, in the second to last store he entered and had to go back after he trekked to the other one only to realize that he already had held the perfect object in his hands. It’s a pewter pin, a wolf’s head with the flag of St. Andrew flying out behind him. It’s also small, easily hidden among others’ clothes. He bought eight of them and quickly headed out of the shop to the bus stop. He fidgeted as he waited, impatient to come back to the apartment and start the ritual.

****2013****

Stiles had no idea how much preparation went into getting ready for prom. Scratch that, he had a feeling that actually getting ready for the prom would be a breeze. It’s the shopping for first a dress and then shoes and then accessories and then the perfect hairstyle and then the perfect hairstylist to create said perfect hairstyle on the day of the prom and then the manicure and pedicure and so on and so on. Stiles knows way too much about girls and their habits now. Way too much. He was starting to have a whole new respect for Jackson, of all people, if this is what he had to put up with all the time. Thank God Lydia never looked at him in a romantic-sort-of-way. Seriously, he dodge a bullet with that one.

Still, he questioned his life choices when Lydia, Allison, and Erica drag him to the mall for the third time in a week to find the perfect pair of shoes. The first time they had gone, it had taken eight stores for Lydia to find her perfect pair of heels. The second time had been six stores for Allison. Erica still hadn’t found any that went with her perfect shade of green, so they were back out searching. Stiles really hoped that it would only take four stores to find them this time.

“What about these shoes, Stiles? Do you think they would look good with my dress?” Erica asked.

He looked up from the stool he was sitting on, shopping bags full of stuff that the girls had seen and wanted before they made it to this shoe store. Erica’s shoes were gold and matched her hair. 

“Yes,” he said, sitting up straighter. The shoes were a little calm for Erica, not having the heel height that was her normal, but they were still dazzling. Stiles could see those shoes against her green dress and knew they were perfect. 

“You sure?” asked Erica, “You’ve been off before.”

“They look like something Selena Kyle would wear,” he said. 

“Okay, Batman, I’ll trust you this time,” Erica said with a smile. 

Stiles smiled and then stood up, ready to follow her to the register and then out to the car.

“I don’t know what you’re so happy about,” Lydia said, “Your shoes are next.”

Stiles sighed and looked at the ceiling, trying to calm the frustration in his mind. It was going to be a long shopping trip. Prom better be worth it.

****2015****

Lydia’s last additions to their ensembles were pretty smart. Stiles had been there when Danny had thought about the face paint, and Isaac and Boyd had practiced painting camouflage print that matched their clothing. It had been a surprise, two years ago, when those two had proved to be the best at anything requiring artistic talent. Now, it was expected that they would be the ones to cover up the faces of the pack, disguising everyone so that they would blend into the woods. 

It was Lydia who thought about the amount of brightly-colored hair in the pack. It was Lydia who had checked and double-checked their ski masks and beanies, making sure there was enough there to cover up the hair. And it was Lydia who had purchased and handed out new black hats to the men and long hair scarves to Erica and herself. (the hats didn’t work half as well as wrapping their hair in a large handkerchief. They simply had too much length to their hair.)

As the pack stood in a row before him, covered head to toe in dark camo except Isaac and Danny who had to be dressed as civilians for their part of the plan, Stiles smiled. They were finally ready to get Derek back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've noticed, the dates have changed. I have no brain for numbers, and it took me awhile to realize that if their sophomore year happened in 2011, then their senior year would be in 2013. And since I wanted prom in here, the years had to change. Sorry for any confusion!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm new to fandom (second work written, first in Teen Wolf), but not to writing. Please leave constructive criticism, formatting tips (also new to posting online), compliments (I hope. I'm really nervous about posting this since it is being written with absolutely no plan), and anything else you want to tell me. This is just a beginning. More is being written, I swear.


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